


Duel

by theorchidhorror



Series: OverPrompt [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, One Shot, Smooching, genji and sombra are mentioned but not present enough for character tags, teen rating is just to be safe theres not a lot going on, thats about all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 23:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11474175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theorchidhorror/pseuds/theorchidhorror
Summary: Jesse McCree challenges Hanzo to a duel while drunk; maybe he shouldn't have scheduled it for sunrise the following morning.





	Duel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jocuments](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jocuments/gifts).



> Prompts:
> 
> “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.”  
> Ecstatic shock - The surge of energy upon catching a glance from someone you like

It started with a bet.

Well, it started more with a night of heavy drinking and a lot of over the top bragging, but it sure as hell sounds a lot cooler to say it just started with a bet.

There’s not a lot Jesse McCree remembers from the night before- he can recall ice cold beer after beer under the warm desert moon with friends sat around a fire, Genji telling stories about growing up in Japan- and Hanzo contradicting him every time a tale got a little too tall, Sombra putting aside her cool and distant exterior to join them at the tail end of the evening… he’s pretty sure he vaguely remembers almost setting himself on fire at least twice. 

What he remembers clear as day, is the conversation with Hanzo after the fire had died to embers and everyone else had gone. 

“...You’re pretty handy with that bow, ain’tcha?”

Hanzo had lifted an eyebrow, incredulously. The question had truly come out of nowhere, but McCree was drunk and he suspected Hanzo was willing to entertain him, if only for a while longer. “I am. The result of years of training and discipline and-”

“Never got the appeal of a bow,” Jesse’d cut Hanzo off, staring up at the moon and scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Seems like an awful waste a time. Bullets fly a lot faster.”

Hanzo huffed, personally offended at the comment, and frowned deeply. “ _ Precision _ .” He spoke matter of factly, staring off into the distance. 

McCree snorted, laughing as slapped a hand onto the archer’s shoulder. “You ain’t really about to try and convince me your arrows are more precise than my gun.” 

To his surprise, Hanzo had laughed too, though the other man’s laugh was quieter and less obviously drunk than McCree’s. After a beat, Hanzo had gripped the hand on his shoulder, locking eyes with McCree. “Perhaps a wager is in order.”

* * *

McCree’s memory of the night gets spotty after that but, as Genji had  _ so kindly _ informed him the next morning at the crack of dawn, apparently he’d agreed to something of a duel with Hanzo. But why he’d agreed to have the damn thing first thing in the morning, when he should still be in bed nursing his- very prominent- hangover, is honestly beyond him.

Hanzo’s already here, looking no worse for wear. For a second, McCree has to stop and strain to remember if Hanzo had even been drinking last night. He  _ had to _ have been- they would have all given the sniper hell if he hadn’t been drinking with the rest of them. Lifting his hat just off his head, Jesse runs his free hand through the tangled mop of hair and exhales forcefully. Oh boy.

“Darlin’, this ain’t fixin’ to be much of a duel- seein’ as you’re bright eyed n’ bushy tailed and I feel like I just went ten rounds with Reyes n’ Morrison combined.” Jesse shoots Hanzo his most charming smile- maybe he’ll take pity on McCree and agree to do this when his head feels less like it’s likely to split open at any moment.

Hanzo only glances sideways at Jesse, an amused smirk flashing across his face. “You were  _ quite _ insistent last night that we meet at dawn.” His eyes linger on McCree’s face, and Jesse can hear the unspoken words from Hanzo echoing in his head.  _ But if you want to admit defeat, you’re more than welcome to go inside and sleep off your hangover. _

Dammit.  

Fine.  _ Fine _ . If Hanzo’s got his heart set on following through with this, McCree’s more than willing to oblige. Rolling his shoulders to try and ease some of the stiffness out of them, McCree saunters up to where Hanzo’s already set up a makeshift firing range and gives it a quick scan. There are bottles of various widths and heights set up at different elevations and distances from where the two are standing. There’s a line drawn in the sand and on a small table to their right sits a stopwatch, meant to clock their speed. Jesse scratches at his chin and gives a low whistle. Distantly he wonders how long it must have taken Hanzo to set all this up. Probably not  _ forever _ but… long enough that he’s impressed. The man takes his bets seriously, McCree would give him that.

“Whoever hits the most bottles in the shortest amount of time will be declared victor.” Hanzo steps towards McCree, his bow in hand. “That should be easy enough- even for  _ you _ .”

McCree huffs, shoving one hand into his pocket and using the other to yank the brim of his hat down in a halfhearted attempt to hide the bright shade of pink his ears have turned. Jesse McCree is someone who can usually handle a joke at his own expense- Hell, he’s usually the one making them. But there’s something in the way that Hanzo pokes at him that cuts a little more than he’d like. 

“Yeah, yeah. “ McCree puts the joke from his mind, nodding towards the shooting range. “Why don’tcha put your arrows where your mouth is and show me how it’s done.” 

“Very well.” 

Hanzo takes position, squarely center of the firing range and takes a deep breath to steady himself. He reaches behind his back to pull an arrow out of his quiver and sets it to the bow, pulling the bowstring back in one fluid motion. McCree watches, taking in every micro movement Hanzo makes, studying the way he engages every muscle in his arms for the one action. It’s obvious now that Hanzo is the product of years of study and rigorous discipline. Of course, Jesse’d been  _ told _ by Hanzo himself about his decades of study with the bow, but McCree had never really taken the time to appreciate the results in action. It’s… really something, he has to admit.  

Hanzo aims for the bottle furthest to his right and takes another breath. On the exhale, he lets the arrow fly, and it hits the bottle square center- shattering the glass into a thousand pieces that glitter in the sun as they scatter in all directions. McCree watches, spellbound, as Hanzo repeats the process, arrow after arrow, in such rapid succession that it all seems one long fluid action. The only sound between them is the soft whir as the arrows fly from the bow, followed by varying pitches of glass shattering until, finally Hanzo has finished.

“Time.”

He turns to McCree, that smug look curling back onto his face, and Jesse is amazed that one man can look so proud of himself while at the same time, trying to remain down to Earth about the fact that he’s just outperformed  _ anything _ McCree was fixing to do with his gun. He’s amazed that one man can look at him like that and turn McCree’s insides to mush, like his belly’s doing somersaults. Hanzo’s gloating, albeit silently, and all McCree can think of is how much he wants to push Hanzo up against a wall and kiss him.

Hanzo’s begun to say something, but Jesse doesn’t catch it. He’s already dropped his gun and the stopwatch (which, in retrospect, he never even bothered to start) and closed the few feet of distance between them, taking Hanzo’s face in his hands and pressing his lips roughly against the archer’s. He’s taken aback, momentarily frozen as McCree kisses him, but his reflexes quickly take over and Hanzo slides his arms arounds McCree’s middle, pulling him flush with his body. 

The sudden warmth of Hanzo’s body pressed against his only adds fuel to the fire, and McCree moves a hand up Hanzo’s jaw and to the back of his head. McCree snakes his fingers into the dark black hair and tugs Hanzo’s head back, exposing his neck. He leaves a trail of hot kisses, interspersed with a soft bite here and there, leading from Hanzo’s collarbone all the way up to his earlobe, which McCree playfully tugs at with his teeth. 

“This will  _ not _ get you out of your bet.” Hanzo’s voice is soft in McCree’s ear, but firm enough that Jesse pulls back to look down at Hanzo in confusion. Bet? Had there been a bet? McCree’s brain can’t focus on anything but right here and right now. Hanzo lifts an incredulous eyebrow, staring up at McCree expectantly. “The reason we’re here, Jesse.”

Right. The shooting thing. His pride as a gunslinger being on the line and all that. Maybe… just this once he can take a loss. 

“Sugar, you  _ win _ .“ McCree grabs Hanzo by the hand and starts off towards their building. ”Now c’mon, you keep lookin’ at me like that n’ we won’t make it to a bed.” 


End file.
